


The Mysteries of Yavin

by duchessofthemoonbase



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Day 2, F/M, Gothic Romance, Jane Austen - Freeform, Northanger Abbey AU, Smut, damereycreationsweek, typical bodice-rippy duchess nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchessofthemoonbase/pseuds/duchessofthemoonbase
Summary: No one who had ever seen Rey Palpatine in her infancy would have supposed her born to be a heroine——but when she gets stranded at the mysterious Yavin estate in the middle of a snowstorm, she is drawn to its alluring proprietor, Poe Dameron—and everything is about to change.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey
Comments: 44
Kudos: 38





	1. Volume the First

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Olpgurl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olpgurl/gifts).



> For Damerey Creations Week Day 2: Regency AU, Snowed In, Sword.
> 
> To Olpgurl, the only person I know who would time travel back to Regency times with me even though there’s an 80% chance we would both die of tuberculosis within a week. Rock on.

_She walked through the door, her black gown trailing at her feet, her bosom heaving as sounds echoed through the derelict castle. It was a foolish idea to enter Count Valancourt’s home, a dangerous one, and yet she was still here. Something about him had drawn her in, some inexorable pull that she could not resist—and yet she would follow it, through all these cobwebs, down into the depths of this place, no matter—_

“Rey? Rey? Are you even listening to me?”

Rey Palpatine exhaled slowly and looked up from her book. “Of course, grandfather,” she lied.

“Please tell me you’ve finally decided to pick up Fordyce’s _Sermons to Young Women._ I’ve been telling you to read it for months.”

“I couldn’t find it in the library,” she fibbed again, and just as she began to tuck away her book, her grandfather yanked it out of her hands.

“ _The Mysteries of Udolpho?_ ” Her grandfather seethed. “What filth is this? You know how I feel about novels, my dear.”

“I’m sorry, grandfather,” she said.

“This _garbage_ you pick up every time you go into Bath,” he sneered, slamming the novel onto the table. “It’s rotting your brain. You must know this.”

Rey stared out the window at the winter clouds gathering in the distance. The atmosphere was dark and moody, reminding her of the story she’d just been engrossed in, of the beautiful Emily and her encounters with the dashing Count Valancourt, how she’d found herself deep within his castle, drawn to him, and—

“It seems we have a letter from Mrs. Vernon in town,” her grandfather said, interrupting her daydream. “Would you read it to me, please?”

Rey sighed and picked up the letter. “ _Dear Mr. Palpatine,”_ she read:

_“All has been very well here since we’ve returned from London. Our one problem, once again, is that mysterious neighbor of ours, Mr. Dameron of Yavin. He’s never once accepted one of our dinner invitations. We’ve never even seen him, and know nothing of him besides the fact that he is a young man of considerable fortune…”_

“Awful,” her grandfather interrupted. “Can you imagine anyone so rude? So pretentious that they won’t even talk to their neighbors?”

“It is terrible,” Rey said.

Her grandfather listened to her read out the rest of the letter, unaware that something dangerous and irresistible was beginning to spark to life within her imagination.

***

Rey curled up under her quilts that night, daydreaming, one name echoing through her head, luring her in…

_Mr. Dameron…_

What reasons, Rey thought, would a man have for never interacting with his neighbors? For never wanting pleasant company? She had passed Yavin a few times before on her way into Bath. It was a sprawling, beautiful estate, if a bit old-fashioned, the home in need of repairs and the garden in need of tending. She had never given any thought to who lived there, she’d always assumed it was some old dowager, wasting away…

…but a young man? A bachelor?

He must have a secret, Rey decided. A terrible one.

Her mind raced through the possibilities. Perhaps he was a murderer, a thief, a pirate. Maybe his love had been cruelly stolen from him, and he still wandered the halls of his home in despair…perhaps he was some sort of unholy creature…a man who transformed into a hideous beast under the full moon…

Rey pulled another quilt over her head as a chill entered the room. She was so restless, so bored of these endless winter days trapped inside with her grandfather. She would go into Bath tomorrow, she decided. They needed more sugar, anyway.

And on the way back she would pass by Yavin.

Just for a peek.

***

Rey pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders as she made her way home, a sack of sugar and a new novel nestled in her basket. It had started snowing as soon as she’d departed for her errand, and now that she was on her way home the snow was nearly piled to her knees, the wind blowing harder by the second.

It wouldn’t be _that_ much farther to take the detour to Yavin. She’d be fine.

Besides, the walk so far had been invigorating. After weeks of being cooped up inside next to the fire, it was a relief. She savored the silence; the space to think, even if her ankles already felt near frozen.

Rey made her way down a snow-covered hill, carefully keeping her balance so she didn’t slip. At the bottom was a small clearing of trees, and on the other side stood Yavin.

It made one’s heart stop to see it.

The estate was imposing, ancient, made of gray stone covered in moss and ivy. A series of turrets stood near the top, and sneering gargoyles stood guard on the roof. The garden was once probably very elegant, with statues and fountains, but now many of the pieces lay broken, weeds growing rampant among broken branches. It was the kind of house that implored dark questions of passersby from the road, the kind of questions no mortal creature could answer.

Rey had never done more than just peek at the house from behind the trees, but today something pulled her farther out. She ducked under the branches and came out on the other side of the clearing, to Yavin’s long front lawn.

Who was this _Poe Dameron_ who lurked inside the walls of this place? This reclusive young man who remained a mystery to all of his neighbors? Rey stepped closer, her eyes ravenous as they roamed over the architecture of the house. _Those turrets…ideal for locking away a captive. The broken statues…perhaps from a lover’s quarrel in the garden, and after his beloved died he couldn’t bear to fix them…and that path out back would be ideal for stalking out after midnight…_

Rey stepped closer, unable to stop as her eyes took in more and more of the house. She felt an urge to see more, to examine every detail, to place her hands on the cool stone of the walls. She looked up at the house again, the turrets and gargoyles glaring down at her, and she began to feel uneasy. The snow was piling up higher by the minute. It was time to turn around and—

“Oof!” she shrieked out without thinking, covering her mouth in a panic as she tumbled forward and fell to the ground. Her foot had slipped on a root that had been concealed by the snow, her ankle bursting into splitting pain. She tried to stand up, groaning as she realized she was unable to walk on her right foot.

“Miss?” A voice called out from behind her. “Miss? Are you alright?”

 _Oh no, no, no…_ she thought, too stuck to even turn around and see who called to her. The owner of the voice walked before her, and she gasped.

“Are you hurt?”

She looked up to see a handsome man of perhaps five and thirty. He had tan skin, dark curling hair, and kind brown eyes that showed genuine concern as they looked upon her lying in the snow. He looked far too good-natured, Rey thought. He couldn’t possibly be—

“My name is Mr. Poe Dameron, and this is my home. I am sorry that we must make our introductions like this, but please let me know of how I can be of assistance to you.”

“Miss Rey Palpatine,” she said, attempting to move but finding it useless. “I think I’ve hurt my ankle.”

“Can you stand?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Mr. Dameron held out his hand, gazing down at her with a worried expression. “Would you permit me to carry you indoors? The storm is only growing worse.”

Rey felt her heart speed up. “Yes, thank you.”

Mr. Dameron knelt down and scooped her up in his arms, and Rey gasped at how easily he carried her. For a man who wasn’t particularly large, he carried her as if she were as light as a doll. Was this really the bitter, reclusive man everyone gossiped about? He seemed far too kind, far too _handsome_ to be anything like what she’d initially imagined. She tried not to blush at how intimate this contact already was, his strong arms wrapped around her and her stocking-footed ankle protruding out of her dress.

When he opened the door, Rey couldn’t believe her eyes.

The inside of Yavin had even more of an ancient feel to it than the exterior, and she could hardly choose what to marvel at first. The interior was decorated in plush red and gold, every surface artfully embroidered or engraved with some intricate pattern. Not to mention the incredible collection of objects crowded into every corner—there were full suits of armor, old weaponry, marble statues, and paintings more exquisite than any she’d ever seen in London. Not only was Mr. Dameron clearly very wealthy, he also had rather eccentric taste.

“I’m quite the collector,” he explained, tenderly laying her down on a chaise. “I am happy to bore you with stories of my travels later, if you like.”

“I doubt I would be very bored,” Rey said. “I’ve hardly been outside of Somerset.”

“I hope you have the opportunity to change that, one day,” Mr. Dameron said, and then remembered the importance of attending to her injury. “I’m afraid I don’t keep any staff, but please allow me to fetch you some dry clothes. I’ll tend to your ankle as best I can. Excuse me a moment.”

Rey’s mind wandered off as she watched him climb up a staircase. No staff on an estate the size of Yavin? He did all the cooking, cleaning, mending…himself? She had never heard of a man of his station having such an arrangement. It was certainly odd.

Mr. Dameron returned a few minutes later with a dry stack of clothes. “I’m afraid I only have men’s clothes, but they’ll have to do until yours are dry again—you’ll catch cold otherwise. Are you able to change on your own, or will you need assistance?”

Rey felt her face flush at the implication. “I can manage.”

He left to allow her ten minutes to change, and by the time he returned, Rey had managed (balancing on one foot) to slip into clothes that were undoubtedly Mr. Dameron’s. The white shirt and breeches were almost identical to his own, and she felt oddly naked wearing them. They smelled warm and lovely, like the leather of old books and pipe smoke.

“You make a very handsome man,” he joked, and Rey cracked a smile. “Will you allow me to look at your ankle?”

“Certainly,” she said, and he sat down next to her on the chaise. He examined her injured foot, carefully pressing into her skin to test the extent of the injury. His hands felt lovely after the cold of the snow. Rey couldn’t help but think that he had beautiful hands, that she would love to fetch her drawing pencils and sketch the elegant lines of them.

“It’s a bad sprain, but nothing’s broken,” Mr. Dameron said, pulling out a roll of cloth to bandage it. “If I wrap it and elevate it, it will recover nicely.”

Rey smiled, appreciating the expert care he took to wrap her ankle. He gently placed it on a stack of cushions, and then fetched a blanket to place over her.

Mr. Dameron stood up and circled to the window, staring out at the snow. “Miss Palpatine, I must insist that you stay with me until this storm passes. The weather is in no condition for an injured young lady to be walking home. We will send word to your grandfather as soon as possible.”

Rey turned her head to gaze out at the piling snowdrifts. It didn’t look like she had much of a choice. “That is very kind of you sir, thank you.”

“Of course,” he said. “Please let me know of anything you need. You are my guest here at Yavin, and I intend for you to recover in the highest comfort.”

“Thank you.”

“I must attend to something for an hour or so. Will you be alright here until then? I can fetch you something from the library to read, if you wish.”

“I’m quite alright,” Rey answered, leaning down to fetch her basket. “I have my own book with me.”

“May I inquire as to what you’re reading, Miss Palpatine?”

She sighed. “If you’re anything like my grandfather, you’ll only look down on me for reading novels.”

“Quite the contrary,” Mr. Dameron said. “I am a great reader of novels myself. Have you read any of the stories of Miss Radcliffe?”

“I have!” Rey said, unable to contain her excitement. She lifted up her book. “I just borrowed _Romance of the Forest_ from an acquaintance in Bath today.”

“It’s a thrilling story,” Mr. Dameron said, beaming. “I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did. And I must say I am very pleased to have a guest at Yavin who I can speak to about novels!”

“Indeed!” she said. “I cannot speak of them to grandfather without a lecture on my deteriorating morals.“

“A pity,” Mr. Dameron said. “I believe the person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be—”

“Intolerably stupid?”

He tried to resist a grin. “I would not wish to insult your grandfather.”

“Unfortunately, he is just the sort of man who deserves such treatment,” Rey said.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Mr. Dameron said. “I must be going, Miss Palpatine, but I look forward to hearing what you think of the tribulations of Monsieur and Madame de la Motte when I return.”

“Certainly,” Rey said. “Thank you, Mr. Dameron. You have been much too kind.”

He bowed politely to her and went to another part of the house. She was shocked to see, five minutes later, that he had put on a coat and walked right out the front door, straight into the middle of the blizzard. Perhaps he _was_ mad…

Rey leaned back on the chaise and tried to ignore her pressing questions about what had sent Mr. Dameron into the storm. She opened her novel and began reading, and before long she was absorbed in the story, eager to find out what adventures and trials the characters would undergo next.

She looked up as she finished a chapter, gazing at her surroundings. Why was she _reading_ about characters trapped in an ancient, haunted estate when she was sitting in such a place now? It truly was a beautiful house, if unconventional. Perhaps that was why the neighbors all loathed Mr. Dameron: there was nothing worse to some than a rich, handsome young man who refused to conform to the standards of society or marry anyone’s daughters.

Her ankle still throbbed with pain, but her curiosity got the better of her. She stood up on one foot, hopping around the room with her hands on the walls for balance. She wasn’t going to _snoop_ , per say, but just take a closer look at some of the things that were already in her line of vision.

The first thing she looked at was a sword hanging on the wall. It was far from the decorative, ceremonial type of swords she had seen before, but a far more crude and practical model. It was dented and dirty, as if it had been carried through battle.

There were vases and small statues, breathtaking in their detail, more incredible than any at the British Museum. The thing that made these objects distinctive, however, was just how _ordinary_ they seemed here. Some of the items were chipped, nearly all were dirty, and some things were buried under newspapers—all these ancient treasures, and he treated them like common knick-knacks!

She startled and caught her balance on the wall as the door creaked open. He was back already?

She began to move back towards the chaise as Poe walked in, traces of snow still in his hair. “You’re walking again! Very good!”

“Yes,” Rey said, stopping when she saw what he carried in his left hand.

It was a massive dead turkey.

“This will be our dinner,” he said, holding it up triumphantly.

“However did you catch it?” Rey asked. “You didn’t bring a rifle, or arrows, or anything!”

“I um, I set traps.”

Rey leaned back on the chaise. “You really didn’t have to catch an entire turkey for my sake—I can’t bear the thought of anyone out in that storm. I really would have been happy with some old bread for my tea.”

“There was not a crumb of food in the house, Miss Palpatine. None at all. You see, I’ve just returned from London, and any food that was left in the house has spoiled.”

“I see.”

“How is the novel coming along?” Mr. Dameron asked.

“It’s very good so far,” Rey said. “Pierre and Adeline have just unknowingly stepped into the carriage with the highwayman.”

“An excellent chase,” Poe grinned.

“It does astound me how absent-minded some of these heroines can be,” Rey commented. “I like to think that if I were in such a situation, I would be able to spot an uncouth sort of man the second I met him!”

“I do believe you would,” Poe laughed, sitting down on the chaise with her. “I’ve got to prepare the turkey for our dinner, but before I do I’d like to show you something.”

“Certainly,” she said, taking his hand and letting him help her down the hallway. They came to a large door at the end of the hall, and Mr. Dameron grinned as he turned the knob. “Since you are a fellow reader, I am of course tempted to…show off a bit.”

Rey gasped as Poe led her into the largest home library she’d ever seen. Hundreds upon hundreds of tomes lined the shelves, their leather spines faded with wear. Papers, documents, and maps were hung upon the walls, and a small writing desk lived in the corner.

“It’s incredible,” Rey said, her eyes racing over the titles on the shelves. “I’ve never seen so many books in one place.”

“Now that we are acquaintances, you are of course welcome to come over and borrow something any time you like,” Poe offered, and Rey beamed with joy. “I thought this would be a nice place for you to spend an hour while I prepare us dinner.”

“Thank you very much,” she said, eyes still bright. Poe smiled at her and left her to explore.

Rey wobbled around the library on her one good foot, making sure she examined every title she could get her hands on—and all for her to borrow! She couldn’t believe her luck.

Like the artifacts in the drawing room, the books here were considerably worn—all antiques that had been put to good use at one time or another. Her eyes were hungry as she ran her fingers gently over the delicate spines: Milton, Spenser, books of Greek and Roman Mythology, _A Vindication of the Rights of Woman,_ Atlases, _The Life of Samuel Johnson,_ and of course, her beloved Ann Radcliffe.

She found a shelf that held stacks of old papers, most of them so brittle-looking that she was afraid to touch them. One of the papers on top appeared to be _As You Like It,_ handwritten by someone with a looping script. Corrections and margin notes had been made in the same handwriting, along with a note at the top: _Divine, most beautiful Poe—this new play is hell to write. Would you visit me again? I’ve written you so many sonnets of late, I fear I shall run clean out of ink. I keep dreaming of those nights we spent in your bed, what a fool I transform into whenever you—_

Rey blushed and looked away, instead pulling out _The Mysteries of Udolpho,_ her old favorite. When she opened the cover she was surprised to see small scraps of paper sticking out of many of the pages, all of them containing notes Poe had made to himself on the novel. He had pointed out moments where he loved the characters; or perhaps the particular rhythm of a sentence. She found his insights captivating, and she spent the rest of the hour poring over the book again, reliving the story through his eyes.

What a man Poe Dameron was! She had met plenty of men who were amiable, and could make decent conversation, but very few with whom she could have truly satisfactory discussions with. The things she couldn’t wait to hear his thoughts on: Voltaire! Galvanism! Robinson Crusoe!

Mr. Dameron came to fetch her for dinner just as she was placing the book back on the shelf.

“Did you enjoy looking through my collection?” he inquired, helping her balance as she limped her way to the dining room.

“Oh certainly,” Rey said, gazing up at him with delight. “I’ve already compiled a whole list of topics that I am especially eager to discuss with you.”

Poe laughed, and Rey couldn’t help but blush as she met his eyes. She had never thought too seriously of marriage: she figured it was something that would come, naturally, in time, but now her thoughts were racing faster. To marry this man! So handsome, so kind—to live with him at Yavin, faraway from the sneering words of her grandfather—she’d no longer have to bear the name Palpatine. They could spend all day in that library, reading novels! The prospect of such a match, admittedly, was beginning to intoxicate her.

Mr. Dameron helped her into her seat. Before her was a glass of wine and a single, unseasoned turkey leg. “Will this do?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Rey said. She had never had such a meal—usually there were other things on her plate—boiled potatoes, bread, at least a sprig of mint—but Poe had risked himself in the storm to fetch her dinner, so she carved into it happily. “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, noticing the empty spot before him.

“I’m afraid I was overeager,” he said. “I ate a good deal of the turkey earlier.”

Rey couldn’t help but laugh at his oddness. “And here I was thinking you the perfect gentleman!”

“I try my best,” Poe said.

Rey sipped at her wine and stared back up at Mr. Dameron with excitement in her eyes. “I must ask you,” she said. “What did you make of Miss Wollstonecraft’s book? I found her ideas very wonderful—she expressed things I have always yearned for as a woman but could never quite put into words.”

“Truly an excellent work!” Poe said. “The part that excited me the most was…”

They talked with great enthusiasm, eager to discuss dozens upon dozens of books now that both of them had finally found a suitable partner for conversation. Mr. Dameron was extremely well read—there was hardly a volume, Rey noticed, that he hadn’t gotten to, and he relished hearing the thoughts and opinions of the young lady sitting beside him. Their ideas built upon each other, echoed each other, and Rey felt her mind sparking to life in a new way. Hours passed, the evening turning into night, and the night into the small hours, and neither of them noticed.

Rey let out a yawn halfway through discussing _Candide,_ and Poe turned to look up at the grandfather clock in the corner. “It’s nearly two o’clock in the morning!” he exclaimed. “It is truly incredible what the charms of an intelligent young lady can do to a man’s sense of time.”

Rey smiled as he helped her out of her chair. “There is a guest room prepared for you upstairs,” he said. “The snow has already let up some, and I should be able to escort you back home tomorrow.”

She sighed sadly at the prospect—she’d only just arrived! There were so many things left to talk about!

Poe seemed to read her mind. “Miss Palpatine,” he said, taking her hand. “You must allow me to come visit you. I cannot bear the thought of not seeing you again.”

Rey smiled, blushing under his gaze. “I would like that very much.”

He led her down the hallway and up the stairs, and Rey couldn’t help but feel guilty about the thoughts she’d harbored about this kind man—and only just this morning! She had an urge to repent.

“I wanted to apologize,” Rey said as they stopped in front of the bedroom door.

Mr. Dameron laughed. “Whatever for?”

“I’ve been very silly,” she said. “Grandfather is always accusing me of being too imaginative, and perhaps he was right.”

“Dear Miss Palpatine, I must—”

“Before I met you,” Rey explained. “I had heard rumors about you from town. Bad ones. Nothing but awful gossip from nosy old ladies, of course, but I am embarrassed to say they had a considerable affect on me.”

Poe only seemed amused. “How so?”

“I began to dream…dream that you were something you are not—a hero from one of my novels, perhaps. A man who lived alone on his sprawling estate, harboring dark secrets. I cannot help but be ashamed of my behavior.”

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Palpatine,” he said, looking at her with affection. “I find your imagination to be a very attractive quality.”

“That is kind of you to say, but I still feel rather horrible about it…thinking you were some wretched creature of the night when you are one of the most amiable men I’ve ever met!”

“I assure you,” Mr. Dameron said as he leaned on the doorframe; only just hiding a sharp pair of fangs behind his smile. “It is nothing to worry about.”


	2. Volume the Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This second part is for Damerey Creations Week Day 6: Mythical Creature AU!
> 
> Thank you for the wonderful response to the first part of this! (You guys are going to make me write Poe/Shakespeare fic now, huh?)
> 
> CW: Rey goes through a painful transformation in this (brutal, but not too graphic). It’s right under the third break. 
> 
> If you want to skip the *spicy* part that I’d be embarrassed to show Jane Austen, skip from “I shall do no such thing” to “Mr. Dameron!”

It had been the most dizzyingly glorious six months of Rey Palpatine’s life.

Winter had turned into spring; and now spring was slowing into summer, and all the while she had been getting to know Poe Dameron. It turned out that he was not the mysterious creature she had once made him out to be; a loner with a mysterious past—he was only an ordinary gentleman, and an amiable one at that, and they were falling more in love every day, trading books and having long conversations in her drawing room.

It was a warm Monday morning in June, and as usual, Poe came by to walk with Rey around the gardens. Her grandfather would always agree, chaperoning reluctantly through the window. There was still something he didn’t quite trust about Mr. Dameron, and Rey suspected it had to do with the reports of his antisocial behavior from their neighbors. Either way, Poe was always very kind to her grandfather, and otherwise seemed respectable, and so he tolerated their courtship.

The roses were in full bloom that morning as they circled around the garden, and Poe had an especially daring look in his eyes. “You look especially beautiful today, Miss Palpatine,” he said.

“You say that every morning,” Rey teased.

“It’s because it’s always true,” Poe said. “And besides, today I wanted to talk something over with you—something of great importance.” She saw a hint of nervousness in his features that was unlike his usual confidence.

“Do tell.”

Poe took her hand and led them to a bench surrounded by pink rosebushes. He stared up at her with the utmost sincerity, nothing but love and tenderness in his gaze. “I wanted to ask you for your hand in marriage,” he said, and Rey felt her heart skip a beat.

“Oh, of course, darling, I—”

“It’s not so simple as that.”

Rey felt her stomach turn as Poe looked down at his feet. “I must tell you…I am not…a normal man. You would not have any kind of normal life with me. I cannot give you any children. We could not be a part of polite society, we—”

“Poe,” she said. “What on earth do you mean?”

His expression turned grim: “Have you ever heard of a vampire?”

“Yes,” Rey exhaled in shock, thinking back to her novels. _Had her original suspicions not been so silly after all?_ She thought of those ancient creatures, the undead, the ones who drank blood and killed without mercy…her sweet, darling Poe…surely he couldn’t…

Her mind began piecing things together…the lack of food in the house and the incident with the turkey, the isolation from his neighbors…

“I am very old, my dear,” he said.

“I wouldn’t call five and thirty—”

“I can remember the Romans sailing in,” he said, and when she looked in his eyes she could tell he was deadly serious. “That’s how old I am.”

Rey stared at him, took him in anew. _The things those eyes have seen…_

She thought back to all the old things littered across his home. He hadn’t just bought them off of some collector in London.

He had been there.

“And…” she asked. “Your food?”

Poe sighed. “I only have to eat about once per month—and only human blood will do. However, I am very careful about my victims. I try my best to only feed upon the lowest of criminals, violent men the world would be better without.”

Rey only then realized that she had pulled her hand away from his, the question racing through her mind. “And have you ever—have you ever thought about biting me?”

Poe almost smirked. “Biting you, yes; killing you, no. I would never wish to hurt you, dearest.” He reached up and ran a finger over the stem of one of the roses. “I’ve developed very good self-control over the years, but say, if you were to prick your finger on this,” he said, plucking the flower off and handing it to her. “I’d go insane at the smell of you—I’d have to run away to keep myself from doing something I wouldn’t.”

“I see,” Rey said. She had only just realized that she had moved farther away, but she still couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked.

“I don’t think I’m as afraid of you as I should be,” she said, and he only smiled at her truth.

“Now you see why I had to reveal this to you before we entered any serious talks about matrimony,” Poe said. “And the way I see it, you have three options before you.”

“Yes?”

“The first,” Poe said. “And I would not blame you in the least, my dear, you must believe me: is that we break off our courtship and never see each other again. You are a respectable young woman and—”

“Never,” Rey said, her heart already aching at the prospect. “You know I could never live without you, Poe, no matter what you are.”

“If you insist,” Poe said. “The second option is that we get married. But you must keep in mind that I will not age, and will not die. We would have to live isolated, and I cannot give you children. I am very happy to take care of you into your old age, and would love you as dearly as ever…”

“And the third option?”

“The third option is…that after we are wed, I bite you.” He brushed a loose strand of her hair away to reveal her neck, and Rey found herself suddenly aware of her pulse, the blood coursing through her veins. She shivered. “You would become…a creature like myself.”

Rey looked up at him, and she already knew within a moment’s consideration what she wanted. “I want you to bite me,” she said. “I want to be like you—to be with you always.”

“It can be a horrible existence, dearest,” he said, staring up at her earnestly. “And it’s an irreversible decision, once it’s done. I want you to be absolutely sure.”

“I’ll have the whole engagement to change my mind, if I wish,” Rey assured him. “But I already feel very confident in my choice.”

Poe lifted her hand and kissed it tenderly, smiling up at her with a giddy expression on his face. “So I take it you’ve agreed to marry me, Miss Palpatine?”

“Yes,” she said, beaming at him. “I have indeed.”

“Very well then,” Poe said, taking her hand as they walked back towards the house. “It looks like I have a discussion to have with your grandfather.”

Rey laughed. “Considering you’re a vampire, you could just steal me away in the night, couldn’t you?”

“I suppose I could,” Poe shrugged, and then he turned towards his betrothed with a smirk. “But I _really_ want to see how annoyed he looks when I ask.”

***

The wedding was a small affair at the local chapel a month later, with only Rey’s grandfather and some of their friends from town in attendance. It was simple and beautiful, and Rey wore her best green dress with lace trim as she walked down the aisle, Poe smiling as she removed her veil and they said their vows. Little did the people in the pews know that their forevers would be far longer than most.

There was talk as they walked out of the chapel— _why didn’t Mr. Dameron have a single guest at his own wedding? How could a man be wealthy enough to own a barouche and yet never invite his neighbors to dinner?—_ but Rey and Poe didn’t hear a word of it. They only had eyes for each other as they drove back to Yavin, wrapped up in the warmth of their affections and the prospect of their new life together.

It was evening when they reached Yavin, and Poe prepared a small dinner for Rey as soon as they arrived. He sat next to her as she ate, and they smiled at each other like buffoons all the while.

“I still cannot believe we’re married,” Rey said.

“I know,” Poe said. “And I’ve been wondering…have you given any more thought to your decision? And you needn’t decide now, dearest, you may take all the—”

“I already told you at the time of our engagement,” Rey said, moving closer to him. “I want to go through with it.”

“ _Darling_ ,” Poe said, pulling her into his lap. “Another thing…”

“Yes?”

“We cannot consummate our marriage until I’ve turned you—I could injure you otherwise. I know tonight is traditional, but there is no rush to—”

“Let’s do it tonight.”

Poe looked up at his wife with wide eyes. “Really?”

“Yes,” Rey said, moving further into his lap. “What will happen to me? How exactly does it work?”

“Well,” Poe said, moving the fabric of her gown away from her shoulder. “First, I’ll bite you, drink a small amount of your blood…” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck, and she trembled. “And then the transformation will begin.” He pulled Rey against his chest, holding her close. “It does not take very long, only a quarter of an hour or so, but it is very intense nonetheless. There will be horrific pain as your body dies, as it changes…you will become stronger and faster—your senses will heighten. And of course eventually, you will thirst for blood.”

“And you will teach me how to live as such a creature?” Rey asked.

Poe kissed her on the cheek. “I will be there holding your hand every step of the way,” he said. “Let me draw you a bath, and then you will meet me in my chambers?”

Rey smiled at her husband. “I shall.”

***

Rey stepped into the dim candlelight of her husband’s bedroom— _our bedroom_ , she reminded herself, and took in her surroundings. The decor was a deep emerald, much of the furniture trimmed with gold, the room even more plush and luxurious than the rest of the house—but she’d have time to examine these things later…right now her attention was on Poe, who sat waiting on the edge of the bed in his loose shirt and breeches. He watched as she walked towards him in her loose nightgown, anticipation of every kind thrumming through her veins.

“Hello,” he whispered, bringing a hand up to touch her cheek. “I can never quite get past how beautiful you are…how happy I am…my lovely wife…”

“I am ready,” Rey said, taking his hand. “Truly, I am. Just tell me what do to.”

Poe wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered roughly in her ear. “Lie down on the bed, love.”

Rey climbed up on the bed with him and laid herself down, resting her head on the pillow as she waited. She watched as her husband made his way over, hovering above her on all fours.

“You look worried,” Rey said, reaching up to touch her husband’s face.

“The transformation,” Poe said. “It is a hard thing to watch someone you love go through. And of course, there is always the risk I won’t be able to stop drinking from you once I…”

“I trust you,” Rey said. “And I am ready. I swear it.”

She shivered as her husband unbuttoned the top of her nightgown, sliding it down to reveal the soft skin between her neck and shoulder. Poe traced his fingertips over it, sighing. “My innocent, mortal wife…” he said. “I am a selfish monster to allow myself to do this to you.”

“I want to be with you in every way I can,” Rey whispered. “Please. I swear I am ready.”

Poe leaned down to press a single kiss to the inside of her neck, and she gasped. “My dearest Rey,” he whispered. “Forgive me…”

Rey cried out as she felt a sharp burst of pain at her neck. She noticed the change in her husband immediately—gone was the gentle man she walked with in the rose garden, replaced by a creature who sucked and laved at her neck with animalistic need, pressing her into the bed as he drained the blood from her veins. Rey felt herself fading as he drank, her body weakening, when suddenly he pulled away.

“I must stop…” Poe gasped, rushing to the other side of the room in a desperate effort to control his hunger for her. “I must…if all goes as planned your body will have changed enough in the next few minutes that I will no longer be tempted to—”

Poe’s voice faded out in the distance as Rey felt a strange cooling sensation run through her body—as if all her blood had drained, had suddenly gone cold. The weakness she had felt a few moments earlier was gone, and in its place was a building sense of energy and strength that was foreign to her.

Poe rushed over from across the room, taking her hand and holding it to his chest. “You’re doing beautifully, darling, the blood is gone, now this is the—”

Suddenly it was like her body was on fire, like every cell and nerve was twisting and squeezing and ripping to shreds, and she screamed out louder than she knew was possible, Poe holding her tight as the transformation wreaked havoc across her body. She was in so much pain that she was forgetting who she was, why this was happening to her…all she could do was beg and plead for it to stop, this agonizing pain that was beyond resistance…

“That was the worst of it,” Poe soothed as the pain started to subside about five minutes later, stroking back Rey’s hair as she caught her breath. “It’s almost done…”

Next there were tingling sensations across her body, a strangeness like heat and ice oscillating under her skin. But it was the outside world that held Rey’s attention. Everything was shifting. She could smell the perfume on her dress across the room, hear owls in a faraway forest, see every defined curl on her husband’s head in exquisite detail…

“Your senses are growing stronger,” Poe explained. “Your world will now be more beautiful and more horrible in equal measure.”

Rey fell back on the bed and buried herself in her husband’s arms, waiting until the strange sensations subsided, until she could exit this strange limbo where she was not quite woman, not quite monster.

“Just a few minutes more…” Poe whispered, and Rey cuddled herself deeper into his arms as she steadied her breathing, as she felt her body recalibrate itself.

And then she broke through.

A wave of relaxation washed over her body. She sat up, holding out an arm, running her fingers over her skin. She stood up and walked around the room, finding new grace and beauty in her movements—her joints felt looser, her muscles stronger. There was an exquisite balance to her every gesture. How had she even walked before this? Like a newborn colt?

Rey approached the long mirror in the corner of the bedroom and stared at herself. She looked _different,_ but she couldn’t exactly pinpoint how. The lines and curves of her body looked somehow more elegant; there was a new strength to her, a subtle gleam in her eyes that made her look alluring…dangerous…

—she liked it.

“How do you feel?” Her husband asked, wrapping his arms around her. They stared into the mirror together and smiled, Poe bringing his hands to her waist. “We make a handsome couple, do we not?”

“We do,” she replied, looking up at him. “And I feel absolutely divine.”

“You should rest, my dear,” Poe said. “You must feel exhausted after such an ordeal, allow me to—”

“I shall do no such thing,” Rey said, turning to him with a smile. “I feel quite energetic in this new body…and it _is_ our wedding night, after all.”

“So it is,” he answered, pressing teasing kisses at the edge of her jaw, groaning as he moved farther down her neck. “I cannot tell you how long I’ve waited to worship you like this, without restraint, without fear of losing control of my desires…for us to love each other ravenously, as equals…” He shivered and pulled her flush against him, and she could feel how painfully hard he was underneath his breeches. “I had to try so hard to keep my thoughts in line that first night you stayed here.”

Rey smiled. “Did you? Perhaps you should speak of them now.”

“Mmm…” Poe said, running his hands over her. “I can remember you sitting on the chaise in my shirt and breeches… _what a sight._ And I’ll never forget how you looked that evening in the library.” He pressed her up against the wall and kissed her. “I wanted to have you right there against the shelf,” he groaned, pressing his thigh up between her legs. “And that night, trying to sleep knowing you were lying down the hall in the guest room…oh _,_ how tempting it was to try and seduce you, lure you into my bed, make you mine…I would never be so untoward, but oh, Rey, how I _dreamed_ of you that night…”

“You talk a lot, Mr. Dameron,” Rey gasped out, threading her fingers through his curls and tugging on them. “Why don’t you show me?”

He chuckled. “Show you what?”

“Show me how you intend to worship your newly-immortal wife, of course.”

Poe lifted up her chin with a single finger, gazing at her in a way that sent heat straight to her core. “Lie down on the bed, as you did before.” He kissed her deeply and she sighed. “I intend to use my mouth on you in a different way, this time.”

Rey unbuttoned the top of her nightgown and pulled it over her head, leaving her completely bare before her husband. She spread herself out on the bed languorously, smiling with pride at the effect she knew she was having on Poe, who stood gazing at her with darkened eyes at the end of the bed.

“My beautiful wife,” he whispered, crawling over her and running his hands across her body. “I do hope you intend to torture me like this for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, I promise to,” Rey said, pulling him down to her. They kissed hungrily, Rey groaning at the feel of her husband’s still-clothed body rubbing up against her naked form, at the need she felt rushing through her veins. Poe sucked on her neck (without teeth, this time) and kissed his way down her body, lovingly caressing every inch of her skin with his mouth and fingers.

Rey shivered when she felt him exhale above her sex, his pupils black as he kissed down the inside of her thigh, his stubble rough against her skin. “ _Dearest_ …” he panted. “Let me pleasure you awhile, let me show you how I adore you, let me—”

Rey cried out as she felt him press his mouth to her, his tongue working slow, hot circles as she fisted her hands into the sheets. She moaned as he continued his ministrations, throwing her head back against the pillows as she felt him begin to pump his fingers inside her.

“ _Please”_ she gasped out.

“Please what?”

“Don’t stop.”

“I don’t intend to, my love, especially if you keep making…” Poe licked a hot stripe over her and she cried out. “…those _gorgeous_ noises for me…”

Although this was new for Rey, it was clear that her husband had been with his fair share of lovers over the centuries; learning and mapping out her body with expert skill. She moaned and reached down to tug at his curls, sighing out in bliss as her husband continued to pleasure her, working his tongue and mouth over her as she pulled him closer. The bliss was already building to a crescendo.

“Poe—I’m—”

“I know love,” he said, curling his fingers inside her in a way that had her gasping. “You have no idea how much I’ve dreamt of having you in this bed, making you fall apart for me like this…watching you writhe on the sheets under my touch, I—”

He pressed his mouth to her again and she cried out, her head falling back as the pleasure coursed through her body.

“Have I served you well, dear wife?”

Rey sat up and shook her head at the cocky grin on his face. “You insufferable man,” she teased, yanking him closer. “You know very well that you did.”

She hopped into his lap and got to work on the buttons of his shirt, pulling it over his head. The lines of his chest glowed beautifully in the candlelight, and she smiled, eagerly running her hands over him and sighing. “How did I end up married to such a creature?” she asked.

“I believe you ended up stranded in a snowstorm with him,” Poe teased.

“So I did,” Rey said, stroking him teasingly as she helped him out of his breeches. “I still cannot believe myself. To think, just when I thought I’d grown out of my fanciful imagination…”

“…You were proven wrong,” Poe teased, kissing her as they fell down onto the bed. “You must have been terrified when I carried you inside that day.”

“A bit,” Rey laughed. “I thought you were going to suck my blood, ravish me and turn me into some sort of unholy bride…”

“Well, only if you had wanted me to,” Poe said, snuggling closer to his wife. “And luckily for me, you did.”

“Indeed,” Rey giggled, pressing against him. She kissed him eagerly as he rolled on top of her, running her hand teasingly over the hardened length of him. “Now, I do believe we have a marriage to consummate…”

“That we do, love,” he said, brushing back her hair. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Yes…I need to feel you…”

Poe lined himself up at her entrance and pushed in, his wife groaning as he filled her. “Oh, darling,” he gasped. “Are you alright, may I…?”

“Move, please, _oh…”_

Poe looked down at her, touching her cheek lovingly as he watched her face contort with bliss under the glow of the candlelight. “You look so beautiful,” he whispered. “How I’ve dreamed of this moment, darling, you have no idea.” Rey sighed as they found a comfortable pace, Poe moving his hips against her as she leaned up to meet his thrusts. “Oh, you feel…”

“So do you…”

“Faster…”

Poe buried his lips into her neck, grinning devilishly as he sped up his pace. “Perhaps I’ll bite your neck again,” he whispered.

“I’d like that,” Rey said, gasping out as he brought his teeth down on her, hard enough to leave a second mark next to the first. She moaned again as the pleasure began to build, wrapping her legs around his waist. They found a steady rhythm, their hips rocking together as the ancient bed creaked underneath them.

“Can you believe our luck?” Poe asked as he thrust into her, tangling his fingers in her hair. “The rest of the world will carry on, grow old in their folly, but _us,_ my love…”

Rey laughed in delight, her eyes sparkling. “We can do this whenever we want—forever.”

“Yes,” Poe said. He reached down to touch her, his fingers moving in slow, steady circles. “Two-hundred years from now we’ll still be making love in this bed like newlyweds.”

“Two hundred years,” Rey laughed. “What an idea— _oh,_ dearest, I’m…”

“Yes, _yes,_ darling.” He sped up his pace and twisted a rough hand over her breasts. “Like that?”

“ _Oh,_ how I adore you.”

“I know,” he said, giving her a feral grin. “Come apart for me…that’s it…”

Rey threw her head back as the pleasure rushed through her, crying out as she pulled her husband closer. She felt herself squeeze around him and he finished soon after, spilling inside her with a groan. He rested his head on her chest, a smug and satisfied grin on his face.

“So, dearest,” he said, brushing back his curls and whispering in her ear. “Could any of the heroes of your novels have fucked you like that?”

“Mr. Dameron!” she burst into giggles, whacking him with a pillow and then falling into his arms. “And no. You, my dear, are far more than any of those men could ever hope to be…and most importantly, you are amazingly, beautifully real. And mine.”

“For always,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “There is so much for us to do now.”

Rey smiled. “I’m quite happy to stay in bed and just do this.”

“There are plenty of beds on the continent.”

“The continent?”

“I say we start off our marriage with an extended honeymoon,” Poe said, kissing her forehead. “It’s about time you see the world outside of England. I have quite a few friends like ourselves all across the world, and I’d love to introduce them to my lovely new wife. What do you say?”

“I say I cannot think of a more wonderful way to start our married life.”

“Good,” Poe said. “We can start planning tomorrow.” He extinguished the candle on the nightstand and laid back down, snuggling close to his wife. “Rey,” he said. “Are you truly alright with what I’ve turned you into? Do you go to bed a happy woman? I still cannot help but worry.”

Rey pressed a kiss to his lips in the dark and smiled. “I have never been happier,” she said. “Before I married you there was nothing before me—a dull life. A sheltered one. But now I am radiant with all the possibilities—the adventures we are going to have!”

Poe smiled. “So you’re excited about our travels, then?”

“Not just that kind of adventure,” Rey said, touching his cheek. “I mean you and I, with all the hundreds of years stretching before us. The world will shift and change and die before our eyes…but I shall always have you.” She rested her head on his chest and felt her body relax into sleep.

“And I shall always have you, Mrs. Dameron,” he whispered, stroking his fingers through her hair. They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, the first night of so many more to come.

When Rey Dameron was young, she had never considered herself born to be a heroine—

—but it’s funny how things change.

***

**October 31st, Two Hundred Years Later.**

“I dare you.”

“I _triple-dog_ dare you.”

“I’ll give you all the snickers I have in my bag if you do it. And five dollars.”

Luke looked up at the house and shivered. It was ancient and practically crumbling. He knew from his mom that the neighbors looked down on the people who lived inside. They never participated in anything, never made any of the repairs the homeowner’s association demanded of them. Outcasts.

But at the end of the day, they were just people. How bad could they be?

Also, he really wanted the extra snickers.

“What do I have to do again?” Luke asked.

“Just go stand by the window and look in. There’s people moving around in there, I can see them. Just see what they’re doing.”

“Okay,” Luke said. He took a deep breath. He was eleven, he wasn’t a kid anymore. He could do this.

He crept up to the porch on tiptoes, his heart pounding as he approached the house. He pressed himself up against the wall by the window and peeked in.

A woman stood in a lush room full of paintings, statues, and other treasures, gazing at herself in front of a long mirror. She wore a long black gown with a v-neck and a slit down the leg, a burst of red painted at her lips. She was brunette, but was in the process of fitting a long, raven-haired wig over her head.

“Could that possibly be my wife?” came a man’s voice from the other side of the room.

The woman looked over and smiled, the man approaching her with a lovestruck grin. He was dressed in a suit with his hair slicked back, a thin mustache over his lips.

 _“Cara mia,”_ he crooned, taking her hand and kissing it over and over. “You look absolutely _enchanting_ in your costume, dearest. Over two hundred years of marriage and yet you never fail to take my breath away…”

The woman giggled as the man pulled her into his arms. “Is that Poe or Gomez talking?”

The man smiled. “Poe,” he said, raking his eyes over the dress. “ _Definitely_ Poe.”

“It’s a shame we can’t participate in Halloween,” the woman said. “Especially when we’re so good at it. Not a party in the world to go to.”

The man called Poe approached a record player in the corner of the room and put on a waltz. “ _Party_ ,” he mocked. “We haven’t been able to find a party with proper dancing in over a hundred years.” He held out his hand to her and grinned. “We’ll just have to have a party of our own.”

“Well,” the woman said. “I certainly have no complaints about the company.”

Luke watched, enraptured as the couple turned about the room in their costumes, dancing with a grace and elegance that looked like it belonged to another time. He had never seen two people stare at each other the way they did, like their respective universes lived in the other’s eyes. Like they were falling in love at first sight, yet had known each other for always. He couldn’t look away.

“I still think it’s a shame we don’t get trick-or-treaters,” the woman said. “I don’t understand why the neighborhood children are so frightened of the house.”

“To be fair, they actually do have good reason.”

“They do not!” the woman protested with a laugh. “We don’t eat children. That’s why we have racists on Twitter who share their location.”

“It truly is our Uber Eats,” Poe agreed, giggling into her neck.

“All these strange new things,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s like we enter a new world every decade.”

“And I couldn’t care less, my dear,” the man said, taking her hand to kiss it again. “As long as I have you in my arms and a good waltz playing, there is nothing else I could ask for.”

The woman leaned up to kiss Poe passionately and rested her head on his shoulder, letting him lead them across the room. They danced and danced, so intoxicated and delighted in each other that they never noticed the boy watching at the window.

Luke ran back to the street, where his friends were waiting with wide eyes.

“So?” one of them asked as they sprinted down the street. “What’s in there?”

Luke smiled to himself as he accepted a handful of snickers. “Just dust and cobwebs,” he lied, opening a wrapper.

What he had seen was a secret, and something inside him knew that he could never tell a soul.


End file.
